Author's note: All characters in the forthcoming sequel to "Teacher's Pet" are of the age 18 or older. Also an apology, to the lovely readers that emailed me, for the long wait for this sequel. I hope that this makes up for the delay.
High school is tough. When it finally starts getting interesting, reality comes along and screws everything up.
After I left Mr. Pearl the day that he first kissed me, I walked home in a bit of a daze. I mean I had spent a fair amount of energy hating the man, and now I was all tingly from him. It just didn't make much sense to me. So I lost myself in my thoughts of conflicting emotions for the rest of the evening. My parents were, thankfully, too busy to sense my preoccupation during dinner. After eating a few bites of truly tasteless food (could have been eating cardboard for all I could tell), I retired to my bedroom.
I shut the door and threw myself onto my sinfully soft queen sized bed and let my thoughts take control for awhile. I pondered whether feeling like I did from one kiss from Mr. Pearl meant I was attracted to Neanderthals and not enlightened, sensitive men. Then I wondered whether I should report him for inappropriate touching, when I remembered with a blush, that other than him kissing me, I had been the one groping him. Finally I let myself just think of how if felt when his lips touched mine.
I remembered the light pressure of his lips against mine. The taste of his mouth, a hint of mint and coffee. How strong his body felt when I pressed into him. I thought about the little gasp he gave when I accidentally brushed against his bulging pants.
My eyes drifted closed as I rolled over onto my back. My hands roamed down my body as my mind focused on Mr. Pearl's kiss, his strength, his touch. My left hand unbuttoned the vest I wore as my right worked on my jeans' zipper. My body felt like it was on fire. My fingers grazed over my hardened nipples through the lace of my bra. I gasped at the sensation when my hand pressed firmly against my tender breasts.
As my other hand dipped into my open jeans, a knock sounded on my bedroom door. Working quickly, I refastened my vest and jeans, while asking what the doorknocker wanted.
"Honey, Mili's play is tonight remember?" My mother reminded me as she opened my door and walked into my room. I sat up on the bed as she looked down at me. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine, Mom, really. I just forgot about Mili's play opening tonight." I said, standing up. "I'll go take a quick shower and change." I walked to my closet to find something appropriate for my best friend's opening night. I grabbed a sapphire blue velvet dress. Aside from the form fitting bodice, it was modestly cut to the ankle and flared out from the waist. I presented my choice for my mother's inspection.
"Lovely," she agreed. "I'll go on downstairs until you get ready." With that she left my room, and me silently cursing the interruption.
At the time I thought that the untimely intrusion into my personal time was as bad as it could get. I was wrong.
The next day I dressed, for one of the first times, with a particular need to impress. I wanted to have my brutish biology teacher to take one look at me and have only my biological makeup on his mind. I put my long red hair up in a loose knot, with careless tendrils falling around my face. Starting my preparation for my day, I put on a matching set of ivory lace panties and bra. I wore, in place of my well worn jeans of choice, an ivory, tan, and black plaid wraparound skirt. It fastened on my left side with an oversized safety pin. My blouse was a ivory silk, lace-trimmed tank top. I wore a plain black blazer over the top. To complete my new "school girl" look, I wore my knee high black boots. Looking in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel attractive.
My feeling of satisfaction was short lived.
Arriving at school, I was assaulted by the overzealous decorations filling the hallways and stairways. All the posters announcing "GO TEAM GO!" and whatever other witty catechisms that the junior and varsity cheerleading squads brainstormed to come up with. Somehow, in my complete and utter self absorption, I completely forgot that this was the week leading up to our homecoming football game. Not that I really cared, but the realization that Mr. Pearl was in fact the coach of said football team, well I started to feel the optimism I sported earlier in my bedroom fading fast.
The rest of the day passed in relative normalcy. I went to each class, answered the questions directed at me, received my high achieving grades on tests, and went on to the next class to repeat the scenario. My best friend noticed my obvious preoccupation and called me on it during lunch.
"What's the deal, Jess?" Mili asked, apparently irritated that I wasn't listening to her regurgitated detail of the opening night cast party.
It took me a few seconds to realize that someone was talking to me, and looking down I wondered where the Hell the tray of odorous food came from. "What?" I asked, not trying to mask my confusion.
"Well, I was asking what is wrong with you," Mili said, attempting to draw my focus from the disgusting food on my tray back to her. "You've been in your own little universe today."
Looking up, I saw an actual flash of concern on Mili's face. Frowning she kept my gaze, while I searched for an explanation that didn't mention my irritation with a possible rendezvous with Mr. Pearl.
"I don't know, maybe I'm just tired." I answered awkwardly. Grabbing my fork, I tried poking around on the plate.
"Tired? From what, you didn't stay for the party last night, even though Joe was totally asking about you." Mili said, her concern forgotten as she started her recounting of the previous night's party.
Happy to have at least gotten her off of the subject of my weird behavior, I halfheartedly listened to her story, feigning interest in Joe (who the heck is Joe, I was wondering). I smiled as she talked about him monopolizing her time asking questions about her cute redheaded friend. In my head, I was seeing a completely different picture. One of me, the cute redheaded friend, and a certain very mature member of the faculty.
The day moved on with no further indication that anyone noticed, or cared that I was acting differently. I did get a few appreciative glances at my new look. By the end of the day, I was feeling semi-normal. I tried putting the kiss far from my mind, figuring that it was a one time thing, regardless of what we had said. Walking into the biology classroom, I had pretty well convinced myself that it really was just a fluke. At least until I saw Mr. Pearl's face when he looked at me.
A slight flush spread against his normally tanned face. His eyes were slightly glazed, like when he had kissed me. He took my whole outfit in, from my perfectly mussed hair to the knee high boots, and from his expression I could tell he was approving.
Realizing his mouth was open in a gape, he quickly closed it and tried composing himself for the rest of the class. I took note of his obvious discomfort with a smile. For the first time since seeing the loud decorations announcing homecoming's approach, I felt empowered. During the course of the lecture on the exact path our impending dissections were to take, I caught Mr. Pearl glancing in my direction. I'd catch his gaze, and lick my lips sultrily. Several times I managed to make him lose his place in his well rehearsed lecture.
After class was officially over, instead of his normal flirtatious banter with the class groupies, he retired to his desk. His desk was located at the back of the room facing our backs. As the majority of the class settled into the usual joking, gossiping and laughter, I noticed three of his usual fans move toward his desk. Rolling my eyes, I drew the latest book I was reading from my bag and started to open it to my saved place. I was startled out of this simple task by Mr. Pearl's voice telling his little groupies to return to their seats, he was busy grading papers from another class. I'd never heard that one before, I thought.
The last ten minutes passed very slowly. My mind couldn't seem to wrap around the words on the page I was reading, and I found myself rereading the same sentence too many times to count. I started to put the book away just as the bell finally rang. Everyone cleared out, for once no one straggled behind, except me. I was still tucking my books away, when I felt him behind me.
I turned around, and found myself almost eye level with his waist. Looking further up, I saw his eyes glittering. He bent down, taking my hands in his as his head leaned in to mine. This time I was ready for his lips, I kissed him with all the passion that he had kissed me with the day before. He released my hands and I wound them around his neck, playing with his hair at the nape. His hands went to my waist. His hands against the silky material of my tank sent waves through my stomach. I moaned into his mouth as his tongue danced with mine.
I felt one of his hands drop to my knee. The feel of his bare skin against mine made my thighs tingle. As we continued kissing, his hand roamed up my leg, skimming my thigh, and nudging my legs to separate. My legs parted, knowing that what I was feeling now was nothing compared to what I would be feeling soon. His knuckles grazed against the lace of my panty covered mound as we heard the door of the classroom open. We yanked apart, him standing quickly as I returned to straightening my bag and under the desk, my skirt.
"Uh, Coach," I heard one of the football players say uncertainly. "You said you'd be in the weight room after final bell."
Mr. Pearl cleared his throat and answered impatiently, "Yes, I know, but Jessica had a question concerning class. I'll be there when I'm finished." He said dismissing him.
I stayed down until I heard the snap of the door confirming that the intruder was gone. Sighing I stood up, gathering my bag and my blazer. "Well, at least we're consistent." I said, with a hint of sarcasm and more than a little bitterness.
